


The Way We're Supposed To Be

by SweetCactusTea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha!Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Fantasy Setting AU, M/M, Mpreg, Omega!Castiel, Omegaverse, elf!Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetCactusTea/pseuds/SweetCactusTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being an elf wasn't as magical as some might have imagined it to be. Castiel, the young omega elf, gets some upsetting news. A decree from higher up that will mean some big changes for him! A fantasy setting AU in which the characters meet in an odd way...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Being an elf wasn't as magical as some might have imagined it to be. There were up sides, of course. Elves rarely experienced illness and disease and each full-blooded elf child was born with the capacity to learn and use magic of many different types, to name a few. Castiel mused, from his favorite spot in his favorite tree, that being an omega elf was usually an easy life. Be respectful, grow into maturity, be obedient, get married, have babies, and keep the house clean until you die. Simple, easy, and doable. That is, of course, unless the Elders got a message from the Spirit’s that signaled it was time for a Blessed Union. 

Blessed Unions were something every young omega elf daydreamed about, as pure fantasy, but never actually wanted to happen to them. Every now and again the Spirits seemingly intended to form small bridges in the gaps of the different races. Elves were usually the ones to hear the Spirit World's orders, as they were more open to them than other races and were generally thought of as the conduits for which with Spirit’s communicated through. They would decree to the Elders that a certain elf was to marry a certain vampire, or dwarf, or human, or any of the other races that roamed the earth. It was all very vague- irritatingly so- but the orders were not to be ignored. Castiel, like other young omegas, would giggle with his friends about being called upon to go find his intended mate. It would be so romantic! They had said, gushing over the thought of it. When the elders had called Castiel to their temple that one fateful night, though, his head hadn’t been filled with thoughts of romance.

He’d been called into the sitting room by Michael, his older brother and the head of the family since Father had passed, and was sat down on the small couch across from his brother’s chair. 

“A missive has arrived from the Elders, Castiel.” Michael had said, not looking up from the paper in his hands. 

The young elf’s mind had raced, trying to think of something he could have done to be in trouble. Why would the Elders want to speak to him? Sure, he’d gotten into a bit of trouble with his friends before but what teenager didn’t? Surely none of the mischief had been bad enough to warrant the attention of the Elders. Whatever he’d expected, it hadn’t been what Michael said next. 

“The Spirit’s have called you to join in a Blessed Union.” he said bluntly, finally looking up. His eyes held no expression. And why would they? Michael had too much on his mind to even be able to tell Castiel apart from one of his many other siblings. Castiel was only another mouth to feed. Another omega to marry off. It wasn’t that Michael was evil he was simply… busy. Castiel had accepted that long ago. 

The young omega had stared back at his brother in utter shock. He felt his heart racing and the urge to get up and run was strong. It would be pointless, though. Once the Spirits decided on something it was sure to happen. One way or another, Castiel’s future was to leave his home. 

“I-… Y-yes, Brother.” He had said, too shocked to do anything but agree. 

Michael had risen then and taken Castiel’s arm, leading him out the door and through the village. They’d walked together up the stone pathway that lead to the Elders’ temple. Michael had bowed in respect before straightening up. Castiel had knelt, finding the proper position for an omega at the alphas’ feet. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing hold of the hem of his brother’s robes, though. Michael didn’t kick him away, so he assumed it was okay. 

The Elders had explained the situation. Sometimes the Spirits would give more information, and other times less. This time, unfortunately for Castiel, the information was rather scarce. He would be given his search-stone and would have to find his intended for himself. Hell, they hadn’t even known what race or gender his mate would be. He hadn’t complained, though, and like a good little omega had kept his eyes lowered as Michael did the talking. It was over soon. (Castiel was glad for that, too. His bony knees on the pebble ground wasn’t very comfortable) Michael had taken his arm again, helping him stand, and they’d taken their leave. 

The walk back to their home was silent, not that Michael had ever really been talkative. Castiel had gone straight up to his room to oversee the servants packing for him. Sure, he had friends here but they were never truly close. His family was nice, but distant at best. The servants were the people he spent the most time with, but they rarely even spoke directly to Castiel. He’d never actually felt a close connection with someone, and a niggling thought in the back of his mind told him that the Spirits might have done that on purpose. He wasn’t supposed to be close to anyone but his intended mate, after all. That was his purpose. He wasn’t supposed to stay here. He was to find connections elsewhere. He had numbly come to that conclusion as he curled up in his reading chair, silently watching as the servants packed away what little things he would take with him on his journey. 

Now, the young elf took a deep breath as he slipped off his branch, landing gracefully on his feet and hefting his bag over his shoulders. He'd already said goodbye to his family and friends, and now the omega was off on his own, searching for the person who would be his husband. "Spirits protect me..." he whispered as he started down the path, the stone glowing in his hands that would lead him where he needed to go. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Castiel had never travelled much. He’d been outside his village a few times, going with some of his older brothers and sisters into nearby human towns to trade in their markets, but that was as far as he’d ever gone before- and never by himself. He couldn’t be joined on this journey, though; as the Elder’s decreed it was in bad taste for an omega to present himself to his mate with a friend by his side. It somehow implied the omega wasn’t completely trusting of said mate who he’d never met before. Castiel thought it was stupid but he didn’t want a smack so he had kept his thoughts to himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his intended. He just didn’t trust all the people in between him and his intended.

His nature as that of a forest elf alone made surviving on his own easier. He knew which berries were poisonous, even if he’d never seen them before, by simply smelling them, and he could start fires with his meager magic skills (He’d never paid too much attention in lessons. The few spells they’d taught omegas were housekeeping ones and he had servants for that, after all). He tried to keep out of towns if he could. Nature he was familiar with. Interacting with any other race other than elves? Not so much. He’d learned that lesson the first week when he’d tried to find an inn to sleep in and had nearly gotten abducted by a bordello’s owner. After that, it was sleeping in the trees for him. 

He didn’t like it. He knew as an elf he was supposed to love all things of nature but he’d been raised in the comforts of a home. A rather rich home, to be more specific. He’d grown up sleeping in a comfortable bed and having food brought to his lap on a silver platter. Living off berries- as he had absolutely no hunting skills- wasn’t the life of luxury he was used to. He just prayed every night, as he tossed and turned on the hard ground, that his husband had a home with the basic comforts. If not, Castiel was sure he wouldn’t rest until he’d gotten his mate to build one. He’d broken down crying many times on the side of the road, simply because his feet hurt from so much walking. 

It took him nearly a month before he even got to the town his intended was in. A near month of sleeping in trees or in the dirt and picking berries and drinking from streams. He’d lost a good amount of weight, as well, and he hated it. His clothes were draping and hanging in all the wrong places, but he didn’t have the money or the time to get new ones. He was so exhausted from travelling that he just ached to fall over and sleep as soon as he found the town, but he was afraid of his mate moving again. The person was rather fast. It had shocked Castiel that his search-stone had indicated his intended was actually traveling towards him a week ago, and the excitement of it had actually cause him to pick up his pace. The stone had indicated that his mate was in a town much nearer than wherever he’d been before, maybe visiting or something of the like, and Castiel didn’t want to lose him if the person left before he caught up to him. 

The stone had shown him that his mate was in the town still, and he’d jumped for joy. He’d taken a few extra moments to wash the dirt from his skin and hair that morning in a nearby stream, and straightened his too-big clothes before heading into the town and in the directing of his future mate. He ignored the looks from alphas of all races as he walked through the town, following the stone's directions. He’d gotten those most of his life. Even in his old village where the citizens feared inciting Michael’s wrath, he’d gotten looks. A certain instinctual part of Castiel’s mind preened at the thought of being admired, but the common sense part of his mind told him to not be a fool and to keep to himself. His heart started to pound as the stone lead him through the town. He passed the market place and headed into what looked to be the nastier part of the village. The buildings were older and the streets were full of broken bottles and debris. He stepped lightly, knowing his thin shoes wouldn’t do much for protection. 

He bit his lip, turning the stone over and over in his hands as he walked deeper into the town’s slums. Night was falling, which of course only served to make everything appear more frightening to the young elf. He knew he didn’t have a choice, though. There was no going back, only marching forward. His mouth felt painfully dry and he yearned for some of that cool stream water he’d hated so fervently only hours before. 

The stone warmed in his palms as the elf drew near what appeared to be a tavern. There was a large black door with heavy hinges. 

His breath was coming quicker in fast pants and his fingers were shaking as the stone seemed to hum in excitement. A million thoughts swam through his mind as he stared up at the building his mate was in. What race would he be? Would he be rich or poor? Would he be cruel and punishing or kind and forgiving? 

He took a deep, shaky breath and placed his hands on the black door, grunting as he pushed it open and stepped inside. 

A few heads popped up at the sound of the door creaking. Half of those heads fell back down disinterestedly, but the rest stayed up. He could feel their dark eyes on him as he took his first tentative steps into the crowd of people. There was music being played, and some of the patrons seemed lively and joyful as they jumped around, spilling their drinks, singing loudly, and bumping into him. Others were hunched around tables, casting dark glances from side to side and wearing heavy, large coats to conceal only Spirit’s knew what. He ducked and side-stepped, trying to keep a hold of his stone in the throng. His stomach was so twisted in knots that he felt he might fall over before he could even locate his mate. 

The stone was guiding him still. He wrapped his slim fingers tighter around it as he followed it’s directions to the back of the room. There were tables scattered about. Some had groups drinking and laughing around them. More than a few had prettily decorated omegas seated at them, drunk and giddy with alpha’s attentions. He swallowed thickly as he passed a few of those tables, his cheeks burning in embarrassment. It was then, as his eyes scanned the smoky room, that his eyes locked on to who he instinctively knew must be his mate. The man- for he could now see that his mate was indeed human- had tan skin and light hair. His broad shoulders were hunched over his table as he seemed to converse with two other men over the papers strewn about in front of them. His mate snapped something at the other men and jabbed his finger on what Castiel could now see was a map. 

He hadn’t even realized he’d come up to stand next to that table until his mate finally looked up. He met the man’s eyes- beautiful emerald gems that they were- and felt he might collapse on the spot. His lips moved, but he seemed to be incapable of speech. He could feel the other two men’s eyes on him as well, but he couldn’t seem to tear his own gaze away from that of his intended’s. 

“I-… I….” he stuttered, his breath getting faster. 

“Look, Kid. We don’t want to buy anything.” His mate finally said, staring at Castiel like he was something particularly odd. It struck him, then, that perhaps his mate thought he was an omega who belonged to the establishment, and he colored even more. He shook his head, lips pursed as his hair fell in his face. 

“N-no, Sir.. I mean-…” he said, finally shifting his gaze away to stare at the floor. He was about to attempt to speak again when his search-stone heated completely, turning scalding-hot in his grip. He gasped and dropped the stone, watching in horror as it landed on the table and set the maps there alight. The three men cursed as they jumped into action. A mug of ale was dumped on the papers, but even Castiel could see they were almost all the way destroyed. He stared at the soggy ashes of his mate’s papers with horrible dread filling his chest. He felt that if the Spirit’s deemed him unacceptable and ordered the very earth to swallow him whole, he would gladly accept that fate. 

He covered his mouth with his fingertips, slowly lifting his eyes to his mate’s face, heart pounding in his chest. He flinched when the man lifted his hand, but relaxed when he saw it was only to tiredly rub his eyes. 

“I’m so sorry…” Castiel said, gnawing on his lip and wringing his stinging hands together. “That… that w-was an accident.” 

The man looked up at him, lips pursed and eyes annoyed. It was a look one would give to a particularly annoying puppy who’d just chewed up your favorite pair of shoes. Castiel thought he might feel better if the man would just slap him and get it over with. 

Instead he only shook his head, rolled his eyes and started gathering up the remains of the papers. The two other men were grumbling something about ‘how old those maps were’ and ‘how long it took us to get our hands on them’. Castiel felt wretched, but he didn’t do anything more. He simply watched silently as his mate shook the other men’s hands before all three parted ways. The two men headed for the back door while his mate headed for the front. Castiel followed him out, not even flinching when the man glared at him over his shoulder. They made it through the mob and out the front door. 

“Look, kid, I don’t know why you’re following me but I think you’ve done enough for one night. Go home.” He said harshly, turning away and stomping down the street to where Castiel presumed his horse was tethered. 

“That stone, ….it was a search-stone.” The young elf said, still trailing after his intended. 

“What were you searching for, a way to ruin my business?” the man growled, untying the horse’s reins from the post with fast, jerky movements. 

“No! Of course not!” Castiel said, reaching out and grabbing the man’s coat, stopping him before he could pull himself on the large black horse. “I was searching for you!”

That, at least, seemed to stop him. He turned around, eyes narrowed as he looked over Castiel. Sizing him up. “Why?” he asked cautiously and the elf wondered why his mate seemed so confused by that. 

“I-… I’m an elf.” He said, though that much was obvious. His ears pointed out of his black hair and passed the edges of his cloak’s hood. “And I was given a message by the Spirits.” He said slowly, watching his mate’s face carefully. “A message that I am to be your mate. We are directed to join in a Blessed Union.” He said, his words quiet though his stutter had gone. 

The man’s eyes widened. Good. At least that meant the man had heard of them before. 

“I don’t believe this…” he hissed, yanking his sleeve out of Castiel’s grasp. He swung up into the horse’s saddle and pulled the reins. “I don’t know who you are, but I don’t like being lied to. Go find someone else to scam.” He growled, snapping the reins to get his horse to move. 

Castiel impulsively moved, placing his body in front of the horse and spreading out his arms, as if he could stop the large beast single handedly. “Please, listen to me!” he said, looking desperate. The horse jerked its head back and refused to move any further.

“I’m not in a mood to play games.” The man growled, narrowing his eyes. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before jerking the beast’s reins once more, moving nimbly around the omega and passed him. “And I’m not interested in any make-believe unions. Blessed or not.” He called out. 

When he didn’t get a reply, he peaked over his shoulder. The elf seemed to have given up. He’d sunken to his knees in the dirt, covering his eyes with his hands and hunching over as his little body shook with emotion. The sight of it twisted Dean’s chest and, despite the fact that the little brat had done nothing but annoy him since they’d met, he couldn’t leave an omega like that. 

Damn his parents for teaching him to be a gentleman. 

He sighed and pulled his horse around, walking back up to the fallen omega and clearing his throat. “Get up.” He sighed, reaching out to the elf. 

Castiel’s face turned up as he wiped his eyes, staring in confusion at the man. Had he changed his mind? Did he believe him now? The man rolled his eyes again and sighed in annoyance, so Castiel jumped up quickly, taking the man’s hand and getting pulled up to sit side-saddle in front of his mate. 

“We’ll talk about it.” was all the man said, and that was good enough for Castiel. “So get talking.” 

He nodded silently, and wiped his face again, brushing the dirt off his robes and trying to make himself look presentable. 

“My name is Castiel, and I’m an elf of the forest.” He began, getting comfortable as the horse moseyed along the path leading out of the village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! This is unbeta-ed. Constructive criticism and comments are always welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

“So, correct me if I’m wrong….” Dean started, leaning up against a tree as he watched Castiel fry the ham over the fire pit. “Your elders simply tell you that you have to come find me. They give you a rock and then send an omega off on his own?” he recounted, ticking off the events on his fingers. 

Castiel nodded, paying close attention to the ham so he wouldn’t ruin it. Not only did he want to impress his mate, but his stomach was rejoicing at the thought of the filling meat. He never wanted to eat another berry for the rest of his life. 

“Yes, that is the gist of how I came to find you.” He said moving the pan a little more over the fire before sitting back on his ankles, his hands in his lap. 

“That’s just downright dangerous. You could’ve gotten hurt- or even killed – really easily.” Dean said, idly chewing on a braided piece of long grass. 

“I did okay. I stayed away from others as often as possible.” He said, a little defensive by the man’s words. He didn’t like to think about his journey and how possible it was that he could have not made it. 

“Hmm, still.” Dean said, flicking the blade of grass into the fire and stretching out. They’d ridden through the whole night, only taking breaks to nab sips of water from a stream. Castiel didn’t complain. He was just glad his journey was over. Anything from this point on, Castiel didn’t consider as his own journey. It was Dean Winchester’s journey and Castiel was to be at his side for it. 

The man nodded towards the pan. “Looks about done.” He said, reaching over with his knife and stabbing one of the slabs, pulling it out. He handed the knife over to Castiel, hilt-first, before stabbing the second slab with a previously sharpened stick. He laughed when the omega tore into the ham like a starving mutt.

“It’s very good.” The elf groaned in pleasure, licking a trail of grease that had dripped down the ham to his hand. 

“It gets better when you put seasoning on it, but this’ll do.” He said, starting in on his own piece. He was glad the kid was eating. He looked entirely too small and from the size of his clothes, he hadn’t always been. He tried to picture the rail-thin elf before him with rounded cheeks and a soft belly and had to stuff another bite of ham in his mouth before he started grinning. 

Finally, when their food was gone, stomachs were full, and hands and pans were clean, they started to pack up again. Castiel helped…in a way. Dean raised an eyebrow as he watched the boy shoving things into whatever bag was closest, giving no thought to what fit where. Dean supposed not everyone travelled as much as he did, though, so he didn’t correct him. 

“Right. Well, let’s get back on the road.” He said, securing the bags to the horse’s saddle. He helped Castiel up first, then climbed on in front of him. Now that they were away from the not-so-nice town, Dean felt it was safe enough to have the omega ride in the back. He still wasn’t too sure about this whole ‘destined to be together’ nonsense, but he’d been raised to protect omegas. He wasn’t going to slack on that just because the elf was a little (okay, a lot) odd. 

“Are we going back to your house?” Castiel asked, wrapping his arms around Dean’s sides and leaning his smooth cheek against the back of Dean’s sun-warmed cloak. The man didn’t seem to mind and Castiel thought he smelled really good. Like leather and earth and a warm breakfast. 

“Eh, yeah. Yeah we are.” He said, though his words seemed a little hesitant. “It’s not the best place, but it’ll keep the rain off you.” He shrugged. “Mostly.”

That was a little worrying, but Castiel was sure that, as long as it had a roof and four walls that he could make himself comfortable there. And a bed. He definitely needed a soft bed to sleep in. 

A kitchen wouldn’t be terrible, either. And he couldn’t imagine living somewhere permanently without indoor plumbing. 

He knew he wasn’t supposed to let his imagination get away with him (It had gotten him in tough spots more than once) but he was already starting to imagine what his new home would be like. He could tell that the saddle and tack that Dean used certainly wasn’t cheap. It was beautifully crafted with the finest of care put into its shape and stitches. The clothes that the man wore seemed to be a mixer of worn, hole-ridden hand-me-downs and beautifully crafted deluxe items. Dean’s dark brown boots, for example, were surely worth more than his worn britches, stained shirt, and fraying belt all put together. That was all mostly covered, though, by his long and soft leather cloak which neither looked old nor new. 

Castiel smiled as his cheek brushed against the cloak. It was very soft and surely expensive, yet it had a distinctive air of graceful age around it. The way Dean spoke of his house, though, seemed to imply that it was little more than a shack. He stuck his lip out in irritation, wishing he had the guts to simply ask about it outright. 

He didn’t want to push his luck, though, especially since he still hadn’t gotten a response from the man about their Blessed Union. The man had seemingly reluctantly allowed Castiel to join him back to his home. Whatever happened after that, though, was up in the air. Would Dean accept him as his destined mate? Would he simply use him and refuse to properly mate him? Castiel knew he wouldn’t be able to turn the man away. 

He sighed and rubbed his cheek a little more on the soft cloak, his eyes fluttering closed as the morning birds twittered above them. The gentle rocking motion of the horse’s slow walk was soothing. They’d both stayed up the night before (The man had seemed to want to put some distance between himself and the town as soon as possible), but Dean didn’t seem to be the least bit tired. Castiel yawned, his fingers loosening in their grip on Dean’ cloak as he drifted off to sleep. 

It was a little over an hour later when he woke with a groan. The sun was fully up now and beating down on his back. His wrinkled his nose as his belly churned in disagreement. The motion of the horse now seemed very much the opposite of gentle and soothing. He burped and his hand flew to his mouth, embarrassed by the sound. 

“U-uh, Dean…” he moaned, tugging on the man’s cloak. Dean looked over his shoulder in confusion and his eyes widened when he saw the suspiciously green tint around the elf’s face. The man cursed and pulled the horse to a stop, sliding off and whirling around to bring the elf down next. He got Castiel down to the bushes on the side of the forest path just in time before the boy heaved up his breakfast in the dirt. 

“Alright, alright…” Dean soothed, rubbing Castiel’s back in slow circles as the elf cried pitifully. “Let it out, Kid. You’ll feel better.” 

Castiel coughed and retched, his stomach contracting and his throat burning painfully. He groaned when he finally felt like he was done, sitting back and wiping his mouth with shaky hands. 

“Com’ere.” Dean said, pulling his hand away and using a soft rag to clean him up. He handed him a skin of cool water (And where the hell had that come from? He’d been sipping from the stream like a dog earlier! ) and carried him away from the mess to sit in the shady grass underneath a tree. “Looks like we were too quick to the draw.” 

Castiel looked up at him in confusion. 

“I mean, your stomach isn’t used to eating meat. You haven’t eaten it in a while, right?” he asked, pursing his lips at Castiel’s affirmative nod. “Well, we’ll just have to ease you back into it.”

“But I’m tired of berries!” Castiel complained, though he stilled again when his stomach clenched. 

“Then we’ll get you some dame bread or lettuce. And small portions of meat.” He said, still rubbing the elf’s back as his stomach settled. He didn’t let Castiel drink too fast, allowing him small sips here and there. He moved over and leaned back against the tree, the omega still in his lap. The shade from the treetops was cool and he breathed a deep sigh, starting to feel a little sleepy himself. 

“Let’s take a break from riding. The heat and the movement might upset your stomach again.” He said, though if he was being honest with himself he was glad for the break, as well. He was never in any hurry to get back to his house. 

Castiel nodded, feeling guilty for holding up their journey but too grateful for the break to say anything. Dean hadn’t pushed him off his lap and Castiel wasn’t about to move himself. 

He rested his cheek against Dean’s chest, closing his eyes and letting the cool breeze drift through his hair. He took another sip of water from the skin, then pressed it against his still angry belly, hoping the cool water inside would help soothe it. He was asleep within minutes, little snores puffing out against Dean’s shirt. 

Dean stared down at the elf with amusement on his face. Whoever this guy was, he sure was quick to trust. That was a dangerous thing to do in this world, but Dean didn’t have the heart to lecture him on it then. He looked almost pitiful the way he curled up like a sick cat in his lap. 

Dean sighed himself, rubbing his face tiredly. Already the elf was starting to endear himself to Dean. He wouldn’t put it past the sneaky race to have some kind of love potion to use on unsuspecting victims. He stilled his hand that had been rubbing little circles in Castiel’s back. He used to do that to Sam when he was young and he was prone to being sickly. At the thought of his brother, as usual, Dean was filled with emotion. Sadness, anger, and regret found their usual and frequent seats in the soul of Dean Winchester. They never left him for long. Dean swallowed back whatever words tried to bubble up—there was never anyone to hear them usually, and the one person here now surely wouldn’t understand. 

He closed his eyes, but he didn’t expect sleep to find him. The elf shifted a little and put an annoying pressure on Dean’s ribs but he didn’t push him away. He didn’t even push him away when he felt the tell-tale wetness that was a sure sign of Dean being drooled on. To the contrary, he found his hand had involuntarily started up on the small circles on the omega’s back in response to his squirming. 

He huffed out a laugh, thinking ‘Dean Winchester you sorry son of a bitch’, and he didn’t know any more as sleep had snuck up on him.

\------------

To see Dean’s home was an…odd experience. It was a decent size, yes. It had doors and windows and a roof and four walls. It even had two levels, Castiel believed. It wasn’t in the best of shape. There were small and large holes in the roof—some patched over lazily and some just left to gape. At least four of the windows Castiel spotted had cracks in them or were broken open completely. The house looked like it had once been a beautiful and quaint place to live, but was left to ruin. 

Only, Dean still lived here, didn’t he? So why had he let it fall for so long? That wasn’t the interesting part, though. The interesting, or should he say ‘odd’ part was the fact that the barn, which Castiel could see was almost an acre away from the house, looked to be the barn of a king’s horses. It had gleaming metal and clean, well preserved wood. Trees surrounded what Castiel assumed was Dean’ property so he couldn’t fully see the pasture but what he did see looked to be well kept and a bright, healthy green. 

In Spirits name, Castiel honestly thought Dean might just live in the barn with the beasts. “I, ah, I don’t know what to say…” he said, a little awkwardly as he shifted around on the back of the saddle. 

Dean snorted, “Yeah, I know. It’s not the best but… well, its home.” He said, shrugging one shoulder as he steered them towards the house. They rode the horse all the way to the back porch- Dean having the horse walk through what appeared to have previously been a nice sized vegetable garden without so much as a blink. He dismounted and wrapped the reins around one of the posts before helping Castiel down. “Come on in, I’ll show you around.” He said, moving up the steps to the back porch and pushing the creaking screened door open. 

There was a good layer of dust on most things, but others seemed to be cleaned. The table and food pantry showed signs of regular use, but the furniture in the next room over looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. 

 

“Well, here’s the kitchen. Through there is the den and the closets. Upstairs is the bedroom and bathing room.” He said, pointing to various spots in the house. 

“Dean, what’s going on?” Castiel finally asked, the words blurting out like a bubble. He knew it was rude, but there was only so much mystery an elf could take. “You live here? What, are you a ghost? Do you only sleep in the kitchen?” he asked, holding his arms out in exasperation. 

“Ah, sometimes, I guess. Most of the time, when I’m not travelling, I sleep in the barn.” He said, as if that was something common. Castiel nearly didn’t register the words at first.

“Not in the hay or anything.” The man scoffed, rolling his eyes. Castiel could tell he was annoyed. “I have a second bedroom set up there in one of the old stalls. I spend most of my time home there, so why not?” 

“I-… but-“ Castiel stuttered, not sure where to begin. After a few moments of tense silence, he let it go. “Can I see the barn, then? It looked very nice from what I saw.” 

Dean cleared his throat and nodded, moving back out the door and grabbing the bags off his horses’ back, setting them on the porch before he took the reins and started walking her towards the barn. Cas followed him, his bare feet padding in the cool evening grass.

“Why don’t you like the bedroom in your house?” he asked, only able to stay quiet for so long. 

Dean shrugged one shoulder again. “It’s dusty.” Was all he said. 

Castiel had about three million more questions swirling around in his head, but Dean didn’t seem to be in a good mood. He followed him to the barn and watched as Dean rubbed the horse down and got her ready to be put in the stall for her dinner. It really was a nice barn and the converted stall-to-bedroom Dean spent most of his time in was small and bare but also nice. Castiel, however, was not sleeping in a barn.

They spent a few hours there together, not doing much talking. Castiel was bored pretty quickly, and he’d entertained himself by being nosy in the barn’s tack room, poking around, eating a few cubes of sugar, playing with the bullwhips. When he knocked over a stand of very expensive looking saddles, though, Dean got annoyed with him and told him to go back up to the house and start unpacking the bags. 

He hurried to do so, glad to be given a task and to get out of eerily quiet barn. When he’d left Dean had abandoned his task of mucking stalls and had started to reset the tack room how he liked it, all the while grumbling about something or another. 

Castiel padded his way back up to the house, gathering a few of the bags in his arms before pushing the door open with his foot. He gasped, dropping the bags and stumbling backwards when he saw another person in the house.

“Who are you?” the other asked, with a slow raise of an eyebrow in response. Cas could scent that he was another omega. 

“Who are you!?” he demanded back, pointing a finger directly in the stranger’s face. 

“Are you here with Mr. Winchester?” the stranger omega asked, knocking Castiel’s finger away as he turned to rummage through the food pantry. “Because I told him I don’t appreciate having to cook for whores. This is gunna cost extra.” He grumbled. 

“Wh—whore?!” Castiel said, outrage filling him. “I won’t hear another word of that! I am Dean Winchester’s mate, you little fool. Now what are you doing in this home?” he said, arms placed on his hips and lips pursed as he tried to look authoritative. 

“Hah, mate? What poor sucker would mate that lunatic.” The stranger said, holding up a few food items and a stained apron. “Mr. Winchester hires me to cook for him on days when he’s home and to feed his animals on days when he’s not.”

Castiel moved forward, snatching the apron out of the other’s hand like a child not wanting to share his toys. “Well, sir, we won’t be requiring your meager services any longer, seeing as how he has me. Goodbye.” He snapped, taking the food items out of the other’s hands and setting them on the counter. 

The other omegas finally reacted, eyes filled with anger. “Is that so? Well fine! I’ll be glad I don’t have to spend any more time around that crazy son-of-a-bitch!” he said, slamming the last few things down before marching back towards the front door. “You must be crazy too! Enjoy sleeping in the muck with the pigs!” he shouted back before slamming the door behind him. 

Castiel cursed wildly and childishly at the door for a moment before he calmed, panted heavily as he looked down at the apron in his hands. He paused for a moment before slipping it over his head, tying it around his back like he’d seen the servants do before. If they could cook, then surely he could as well, right?

“Well, how hard could it be?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It's been a while but I got this next chapter cranked out and a good starter for 3. Hope you enjoy it! As always, constructive criticism is very welcome!


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